


comforting

by wintersweather



Series: adronitis [2]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 14:39:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15075302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersweather/pseuds/wintersweather
Summary: and your feelings aren't feeling magnificent





	comforting

**Author's Note:**

> title/excerpt from "southern comforting" by JPNSGRLS!
> 
> this is a follow-up to my other story, "caught up in the trivial". reading that one first isn't mandatory to understand this story, tho!

"Is it bronchitis?" Brian asked, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder. He was still trying to unpack his suitcase from E3, after spending a good day and a half laying around in bed and living off cereal and cough drops. He was glad to be feeling better.

Pat wasn't as fortunate.

"I don't know." Pat answered, his voice sounding slightly hoarse. "I hope not, this shit sucks and I've got work Monday."

Brian nodded subconciously. "Want me to come over?" He offered, pushing his now-empty suitcase to the back of his closet. "You sound so bummed." He added, laughing a little to try and lighten the mood. 

Pat's sigh was dismal. "Yeah, if you want. I miss you."

Brian made a face though he knew Pat couldn't see him. "Okay," He said finally, smiling to himself. "I'll be over right away." He waited for Pat to say goodbye before he hung up.

It was dumb, Brian thought, how excited he got before seeing Pat. Like he was in middle school, getting butterflies over any girl who was nice to him for an extended period of time. Except it was different at 24 years of age. Passing crushes in the halls were different than going to their house to like _hang out_. It still made Brian feel a little juvenile.

\- - -

Pat opened the door, looking like death wamred over. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than usual, and his glasses were nowhere to be seen. Still, he smiled when he looked down at Brian. "Hey, thanks for coming."

Brian smiled back, pulling Pat into a tight hug. "Thanks for having me." He replied, stepping into the apartment. 

Charlie made his presence known from the couch, lifing his head and giving a meow as Pat approached him. He sat on the couch, holding his hand out to Brian.

Pat looked somewhat miserable and small on the couch. Still, Brian took his hand and let Pat pull him down to sit together. "I'm glad you're here." Pat commented, laying his head on Brian's shoulder.

Brian squeezed Pat's hand. "Of course. I'm the reason you're like this, anyway." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Probably shouldn't have kissed you, huh?" 

Pat took a breath, but didn't answer promptly. Brian though he felt him tense a little. "Yeah, about that. I think _I_ kissed _you_." He said, and Brian could hear the smile in his voice.

Brian's face warmed at the memory, and he was thankful Pat couldn't see him. The room fell silent for a few minutes, and Brian closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the peaceful feeling (even though his shoulder sort of hurt at this point).

Pat sat up suddenly, turning his face away from Brian as he coughed. It came from deep in his lungs, sounding phlegmy and painful. Brian was familiar with it; it was the kind that left you gasping for air like you had just been drowning. Pat let go of his hand, pushing his hair out of his face and leaning back into the cushion once the coughing fit was over.

"I'm so sick of this shit." He said, his exhale shuddery. "Sorry."

Brian shook his head, then nodded. "It's okay." He replied, standing up off the couch and walking to Pat's kitchen. His whole apartment was just one big room, aside from the bedrooms. "You got anything in here to make soup? That always makes me feel better."

Pat slumped to his side, laying down with his head beside Charlie. "I dunno. I've been existing off of benzos and stale saltine crackers for the past few days." He replied in a deadpan. 

Brian tried not to laugh at Pat's impassive tone. "That's grim." He said back, opening the fridge. It was pretty bleak in there, but making soup was a pretty open thing, and Brian was creative. Just maybe not the best cook.

Pat watched him from his position on the couch, listening to Charlie's content purr. Brian sang as he cut up vegetables, some song from the 80's Pat knew he was familiar with but was too brain-fogged to identify at the moment.

What started out as a quiet croon turned into full-blown belting by the time he got to the chorus. Pat held his breath to keep from laughing, which would inevitably lead to another bout of coughing, and he didn't want that to interrupt his boyfriend's passionate kitchen performance. 

When Brian finished his song, he turned to Pat and bowed with as much theatricality as he could muster. Pat's laugh verged on hacking, but he clapped nonetheless. "I love you." He said finally.

Brian grinned, turning the heat down on the stove. "Y'know what? I love you, too." He replied. 

Three words. Brian always knew he loved Pat, but he always pictured the confession going differently.

Maybe on a date they've yet to go on, or on one of their birthdays. In a rush before they took different subs home, or laying together after sex.

He never imagined it like this: Pat, half-dead from bronchitis on his couch, and Brian out of breath from his impromptu 'You Make My Dreams' kitchen cover.

It felt unpicturesque and odd, but inexplicably _right_. 

Pat, despite the illness, looked like he was glowing from the inside out. It made Brian feel just a little emotional, so he turned away to stir the pot. He was glad Pat's glasses were off so he couldn't see Brian's face.

"You should get some sleep." Brian spoke up finally, once he felt like his voice wouldn't shake.

Pat hummed, sitting up. "What'll you do?" 

Brian shrugged, putting the spoon on the spoonrest before returning to his place on the couch. "Hang with Charlie, try not to burn your whole apartment building down. Y'know, the usual."

Pat rolled his eyes, trying to fight a smile. "Okay," He conceded, standing up. "Wake me when your soup is ready, yeah?" 

He smiled fondly up at Pat. "Sure thing."

\- - - 

Brian didn't have the heart to wake Pat up nearly an hour later. It was like Pat had finally managed to find a moment of peace while afflicted by this pulmonary plague. 

Brian separated the soup into what few tupperware containers Pat had before returning to his bedroom. It was quiet and Brian found himself casting his mind back to the last time he was in here.

Long before the word "boyfriend" even came to mind, much less "I love you"s. It had been a wonderful night but an awkward morning, as Brian tried to escape before Pat woke up. Of course he had, though, watching Brian as he got dressed.

Things were different now. Brian didn't want to run from his feelings, run from Pat. He couldn't read minds, but he liked to think Pat felt the same about all that. Like they were finally on the same page.

Brian wanted to lay beside Pat, brush his hair away from his eyes and kiss his face and make him feel better. The more rational side told him to go the fuck home, that he's done all he could and Laura and Jonah were probably wondering where he was.

He turned to leave the room just as the unmistakable sound of a marimba ringtone started blaring. In his momentary shock, Brian just looked around, bewildered. Realisation dawned on him eventually: it was him. He set a reminder to feed Zuko.

By the time he managed to silence it, the damage had been done. Pat was awake, reaching for his glasses off the nightstand. 

Brian apologized, feeling pretty fucking bad for Pat. He looked like a reanimated corpse. If Brian wasn't positive the skeleton was in the stream room, he easily could've mistaken it for Pat's new Look™. 

"It's okay." Pat replied, because he was supposed to. "How long was I out?"

"Hour'ish. I didn't want to wake you, but, uh, you see where that got me."

"It happens." Pat dismissed. He didn't think he could ever be mad at Brian, even if he wanted to. Especially when Brian looked like a deer in headlights. "I'm not even really tired anymore."

Brian pulled a face, stepping closer to Pat. "You look it." 

"Brian, I'm thirty fucking years old. I always look tired." He joked, trying to suppress another cough.

Pat laughed, sharp and sudden. "Okay. Alright, I should probably head out, huh?"

"If you want."

"I don't, not really." Brian admitted. He could feel a blush high on his cheeks. He only got to mentally beat himself over it before Pat continued.

"Come here." He said, smiling a bit as Brian sat beside him on the bed. "The good thing is I can kiss you as much as I want without getting you sick."

Brian let Pat wrap his arms around him. "I love you." He said, kissing Pat's cheek softly. His face was warm and Brian wasn't sure if it was a fever or just from the close proximity of them.

"You'll never understand how much you mean to me." Pat said quietly, like he was afraid Brian would hear him.

Brian felt a surge of emotion. "Maybe not. That's okay." He answered, matching Pat's tone. "Get some sleep, you hollow shell of a man." He added, unable to give a comparable sentiment to Pat's.

Pat's laugh came out as more of a week wheeze. "As long as you stay with me."

"Always."

**Author's Note:**

> look i know i've wirtten like a thousand million stories of them falling in love and that kind of stuff but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯!!! i'm a one trick pony what can i say
> 
> no but honestly! i promise i'll write more interesting gil(l)bert content soon!!!


End file.
